A Band Is Born
by Y2marmar
Summary: What happens when our 4 Queenies are debating a name for their band. But Brian and Freddie have deeper issues
1. Chapter 1

Band Is Born

by Y2marmar

Beta: Chancellor Amethyst

In the Knight's Armour, a small pub in East London, four young men sat discussing the future of their band. Leading the debate were Freddie and Brian. Brian had formed the band and because of this, he felt he had more sway. However, no matter who was right, one thing was certain: this was going to take a while. Brian's airy and occasionally piercing voice could be heard throughout the pub. "I'm not calling my band Queen. It's ridiculous. We'd be opening ourselves up to all types of criticism and apart from that--"

"Your band?" Freddie interrupted. "Whoever said it was your band?"

"I formed it." Brian replied through gritted teeth. Ignoring him, Freddie turned to Roger.

"What do you think, dear? Any ideas?"

"Well... Queen is an interesting name," Roger commented.

"Interesting?" Brian snorted. "How is it interesting?"

"Just because you don't like it, doesn't mean anybody else can't like it." Roger growled.

"Interesting, dear," Freddie cut in, "in that it opens up lots of different layers. For example we... Wait a minute, if you don't like it so much why don't you suggest a better name?" He suggested sweetly.

It was obvious that Brian had been waiting for this moment all evening. He sat back and put a thoughtful look on his face. Freddie turned and glanced at Roger who was shaking his head in disbelief. Finally Brian spoke.

"Well, I suppose we... No, no of course not. But maybe we could... No, we'd just--"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Brian," Freddie cut in, "It's obvious that you've got an idea so spit it out."

Brian pretended to look unsure.

"Well...how about Constellation?"

Freddie made a noise that sounded like a chicken being strangled.

"Con--constellation? Wh--who in their right minds... Why would anyone..." Running out of litany, he turned to John. "John, darling, what do you think?"

John looked as if he'd rather drop down dead than take part in this heated debate. He knew that no matter what he said, it would be the wrong answer. He looked at Freddie with pleading eyes. Freddie stared back at him expectantly. Seeing that there was no way of escaping, he timidly decided to add his opinion.

"Well, you see, I, uh, I--I like it."

Freddie made to jump up but was pulled back down by Roger. Brian shot Freddie a triumphant look.

"What's there to like about it?" Freddie demanded.

"I, er, just th--think it's a good idea. Th--that's all." John stammered.

"You think everything he says is a good idea." Freddie shot back. Roger touched his arm.

"Freddie, come on. You did ask him what he thought."

"Whose side are you on?" Freddie hissed.

"I'm not taking sides." Roger replied testily. "I'm trying to sort this fucking argument out."

"There wouldn't be an argument if a certain curly-haired guitarist prat could stop objecting to every single thing I say." Freddie retorted.

Brian sat up with such a jerk that his drink toppled over. "Well, if a certain black-haired buck-toothed pianist bitch could try and accept other people's opinions instead of constantly making himself out to be the victim bitch queen of the universe, then maybe the curly haired guitarist prat would stop arguing with him."

Freddie's lips curled into a smile. He knew just how to get his own way. He spoke in a loud enough voice for the people at the next table to over-hear.

"Darling, that's not what you thought last night when we were talking on the phone. Or two nights ago when we were alone in your apartment--making 'music'." Freddie then added, for extra emphasis, "darling, you liked my queen of the universe act then."

He sat back and folded his arms. Brian looked as if he wanted to kill him.

"Freddie," he began weakly, "Freddie, you're forcing your opinion on me. You know I hate that. The other night when we were in your apartment writing a song," he said by way of explanation, glaring at Freddie, "I liked your queen of the universe act because it was... well it, it was... funny," he fnished lamely.

"Funny?" Roger could be heard sniggering.

"Anyway," Brian continued, trying to ignore Roger, "I just think that by calling ourselves Queen we'd... What?" Brian was tense and on the verge of tears. Roger had whispered something to John and both were giggling. Freddie was sitting with his arms folded smirking.

"Darling, they seem to think that I'm shagging you. I wonder how they got that idea?"

"Perhaps," Brian answered, the tension growing in his voice, "Perhaps it's because you're such a slut that you'd shag anything with two legs and a dick."

Freddie opened his mouth to reply but found that he couldn't.

"Wh...What are you suggesting dear?" He finally managed.

"You're a slut." Brian didn't bother to lower his voice. "No sooner have you finished with one bloke then you're on to the next. Everyone that knows you learns that one pretty quickly."

Freddie was shocked. He'd known Brian for quite some time and they'd called each other plenty of things, but Brian had never called him a slut.

"Every time you leave your apartment you return with a new guy," said Brian, who'd gained too much momentium to stop, "You're such a slut! You'd flirt with the wall if there were no one else to flirt with. That's probably why you can never hold a bloke for longer that three months. In fact I'm surprised you found time in your busy dating schedule to meet us this evening."

Freddie had paled slightly. "Death on two legs dear. That's what you are. Death on two legs. I might have expected something like that from the girl that lives next door, or from that boy that works in the supermarket. But not from you dear. Never from you."

He gathered up his things and left.

"Fucking drama queen," Brian muttered.

The others were left in an uncomfortable silence. Roger sat glaring at Brian trying to resist the temptation to kick him in the stomach, or at least rearrange his face. Brian sat glaring at Roger, daring him to attempt just that. John sat glancing nervously from Brian to Roger, torn between the urge to run after Freddie and make sure he was all right and the urge to stay and find out what Roger would do to Brian. Suddenly Roger exploded, helping John to make up his mind.

"You stupid, sheep-shagging, mother-fucking bastard! What the fuck did you do that to him for? There was no need to go that far. Surely even you can tell when we're having a laugh. So he likes to shag. So what? We don't care... Well, John and I don't." Roger stopped to take a breath. Having paused to do so, Brian used the opportunity to get a word in.

"And you're so great yourself, are you?" He did a poor but effective imitation of Roger's raspy voice. "Oh yes Freddie, I agree, Freddie, Queen is an interesting name Freddie. You suck up to him so much it makes me sick."

"I'll fucking make you sick in a minute." Roger warned.

Ignoring him, Brian continued. "I'm surprised he hasn't tried to shag you yet. You'd do it willingly just to please him." He went back to imitating Roger's voice. "Yes Freddie, no Freddie, three bags full Freddie..."

He wasn't given a chance to continue, as Roger flew across the table landing punch on his mouth. Before he had a chance to recover Roger punched him again. Suddenly Roger found himself being pulled off Brian. He looked up into the angry face of the bar manager.

"You kids have been causing' trouble in here long enough. Either you lot leave now or I call the police." Brian got up and dusted himself down.

"Yeah well, I wouldn't stay here a minute longer. Not if you paid me." He stalked out, deeply humiliated but too stubborn to show it.

Outside the pub, Roger turned to leave but before he left he turned to Brian.

"Oh, yeah. If you had any decency, you'd go round there and apologise. We were joking, you weren't so go and fix it." He turned and left.

Brian turned in the direction of Roger and Freddie's apartment. John called after him.

"Hey, I...I'll hold him you punch, eh?"

Brian turned and glared at him. John tried again. "For what it's worth, I think Constellation is a great name." Brian walked back to John.

"No, John, don't help me. This is my mess. I've got to fix it myself." He sighed. "I really fucked things up. Didn't I? I don't know what came over me...Well, maybe I do, but...John, if I tell you something, will you promise not to tell anyone? Especially not Roger?" John looked surprised.

"Of... course. Sure, talk away." Brian pulled him so close he could smell Brian's aftershave. Brian whispered into his ear.

"Well, I--I've never told anyone this, but... uh, you see, Freddie and I, well, Freddie and I, well, we're seeing each other, you know. We're a... couple." John looked stunned. He stood, looking like a goldfish with his mouth opening and closing. Brian backed away slightly and decided to continue.

"I...I know that seemed over the top in there, but we haven't been having an easy time and well...it's just, he's, he'd flirt with his hands if there was no-one else around. I know he cares though. We've just been having a really rough time. He wants to tell everyone about us. I... well, I'm not ready. I mean he almost announced it to the whole pub. Christ, the whole pub. I mean, it hasn't even been legal that long, has it? He thinks I'm just using him. But I, I...think I love him." Brian looked at John's goldfish impression.

"Anyway, you...you won't tell anyone, will you?"

John found his voice. "But it doesn't make sense. If you love him, why did you say all that stuff to him in the pub? That's not what... lovers do."

Brian pushed his curls out of his eyes. "I know, but like I said we've been having a really rough time. When we go out to a pub together, he sits checking out every other guy in the room. He's openly flirted with other guys in front of me. We had an argument in there before you and Rog joined us. We said some stuff...anyway it's really complicated. I'm gonna go and try to sort it out." he turned and hurried off. John stared after him.

"Wow, he said to nobody in particular, "Complicated isn't the word for it."

Meanwhile, Freddie was pacing around his apartment chain smoking cigarettes. How dare Brian call him that? He knew that he was a bit of a flirt, but he was no slut. He had a reputation to keep up. He wasn't going to change his ways just because Brian didn't approve. He was just about to phone Mary to ask her advice when he heard a knock on the door, followed by Brian's voice.

"Um...Freddie? Are you there?" He rushed over to open the door but stopped himself. He'd forgiven Brian; he cared about him deep down. But Brian had hurt him. Why couldn't he hurt him back? He decided to play a little game. Brian spoke again.

"Freddie I know you're there. I can see the light under the door. You might not want to talk, but we need to."

Freddie opened the door slowly and put on a hurt voice. "Oh. It's you."

He walked away from the door.

"Can I come in?" Brian asked.

"If you feel you must, dear." Freddie turned one of the chairs around so that it faced away from Brian. He threw himself into it, lit a cigarette and picked up a magazine. Brian walked over and stood behind him.

"Freddie, look. Those things I said in the pub, I didn't mean them okay?"

Freddie took a drag on his cigarette.

"Freddie you're not a slut...well, not really." Brian ran a finger down the nape of Freddie's neck, and then, while running the finger down Freddie's back, he started kissing the area of his neck that he knew sent shivers down his spine.

"You're not a slut." He purred seductively. "You're a kind, sweet, sexy, absolutely irresistible individual."

Freddie felt a movement and traced it to his trousers. Trying hard to stifle a sigh, he took an extra long drag on his cigarette and turned a page in the magazine. Brian wrapped his arms around Freddie's neck and nibbled softly on his ear before mumbling into his hair.

"Come on, Mr. Queen of the Universe. Please, don't hate me. I don't like you being mad at me."

Freddie was trying hard to stifle a sigh in order to prevent Brian coming and sitting on his knee. Brian often did because it was a sure way of getting Freddie to bed. Freddie stood up and walked into his bedroom. Brian followed him.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Freddie. You must be feeling something."

Freddie turned and looked at him. "Oh, I am feeling something dear. I'm feeling hurt, upset, disappointed, and confused, would you like me to continue?" He was waving his cigarette around and brushed some ashes off his shirt. "If you really really want to though, we can forget about this, have a quick shag and then continue this argument." He looked at Brian hopefully. "I'd still be hurt confused and disappointed, but at least then I'd be satisfied as well."

"Fuck you and your quick shag!" Brian stormed out and banged the door behind him. Freddie collapsed onto the bed in a fit of laughter, feeling much better.

To be continued...


	2. Part 2

Part two By Y2marmar

Freddie was still giggling occasionally the next morning, much to the annoyance of Roger, who was suffering from the classic, hangover from hell. He sat glaring at Freddie, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"If you don't shut the fuck up, I swear to God I will shut you up"

"Oooh, somebody's in a bad this morning," Freddie teased. Roger, knowing that there was no point in pursuing the issue, went back to clenching his fists and glaring at Freddie. Freddie looked up at Roger.

"Oh, do cheer up darling," He put down his pen and reached for his so-stylish-that-it-hurts leather jacket, "Alright, are you ready?" Roger looked at him confusedly.

"Ready for what?"

"For a tremendously, wonderfully enormous shag. What do you think dear? Are you ready for the rehearsal?" Roger still looked confused.

"What rehearsal?" Freddie rolled his eyes in mock frustration.

"Queen, Constellation, whatever the fuck you want to call it are having a rehearsal. It started half an hour ago, but we couldn't leave because I was writing this song,"

"Well I don't know how you expect to get me there, because I'm not moving," Roger folded his arms stubbornly. Freddie walked over behind him and rested his hands on Roger's shoulders.

"That's all right darling, I'll carry you…hmmm, yes, I think I'll carry you," Roger pushed him away.

"fuck off, I'm coming."

Meanwhile, Brian and John were at the rehearsing studio. Brian was pacing up and down furiously. John was watching him uneasily.

"Every time we have a rehearsal, you can be guaranteed that Freddie will be at least half an hour late," Brian ranted. John, noticing Freddie arriving through the window, tried to calm Brian down.

"He's not always late. Anyway, he'll be here in a second, I can see him. By the way…" he lowered his voice, "Does Roger know?" Freddie came in behind John.

"John darling, Roger knows nothing. Apart from the fact that his name is Roger, he's got long hair and a big dick, and even that's all spotty at times. By the way, where is the little Shit?"

"You're late…again," Brian reminded Freddie coldly.

"Everyone arrives late darling, it's the fashion," Freddie laughed.

"John and I managed to arrive on time," Brian challenged.

"Well I'd hardly call you fashionable, what with your hair and that shirt…" Freddie walked over and began to finger Brian's shirt in disgust, "I mean what is this? If you wanted clothes that badly, I could have given you some of my stuff. At least I don't look like a poodle with a bad hair day,"

"No," Brian snapped, "You look like something the cat shagged and then dragged through a hedge backwards," he looked at Freddie's skin tight leather trousers and loose yellow shirt in disgust. Freddie waved a hand dismissively at Brian and sat down at the piano.

"Looks are nothing darling, personality is everything."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Brian snapped.

"It means, dear, that I'm not the one who insults people just because I can't have my own way,"

"That was not because I couldn't have my own way," Brian shouted, "It was because I worry about your ummm…sexual habits,"

"My sexual habits are my own business dear," Freddie stood up again, "Anyway, you told me before that…hang on, what were your exact words?" he thought for a moment, "Oh yes, you said 'Freddie I couldn't give a monkey's arse, if you shagged a camel.' That made me laugh actually, because I know you really do care, and you would be exceptionally worried if I shagged a camel," he giggled quietly to himself, while Brian glared at him.

By this time, Roger had dragged his sorry arse in and was looking confusedly from Brian to Freddie and then to John.

"Must you argue so loudly?" he groaned.

"Nice of you to join us Rog," Brian said sarcastically, "I hope we're not keeping you awake,"

"Fuck off," Roger growled.

"We're not arguing dear," Freddie told him, "We're debating in loud voices. Brian, the reason we're late is because there's nothing we like more at ten o clock in the morning, than the sound of your voice nagging."

"I do not nag!" Brian shouted.

"Yes you do dear," Freddie sighed, tiring of the conversation, "You're a nagging idiot and I'm a selfish bastard. Conversation ended. Now let's get some work done, I've just written a fabulous new song called My Fairy King," Freddie went back to the piano and began to play it.

Brian remained where he was standing, glaring at Freddie. Typical Freddie, always had to have the last word.

Later on, when the rehearsal had ended, Freddie sneaked up behind Brian and sneaked his arm around him.

"Freddie! Not in public," Brian snapped, pulling away.

"Sorry darling, couldn't help it. Roger's going out now, how about you and I go back to my apartment and we'll take from there?" Freddie smiled seductively. Brian sighed.

"No Freddie, we need to talk,"

"We will talk," Freddie reassured him, "Eventually,"

"No, Freddie," Brian protested, "I don't think you understand, we need to talk seriously. About where we're going, and stuff."

"Oh alright," Freddie sighed, "We'll talk for a while,"

Back at Freddie's flat, Brian closed the door and began to speak, but Freddie pinned him up against the door and began to kiss him. Brian pushed him away.

"Freddie, we need to talk,"

"Oh for fucks sake, talk then. What's bothering you now?" Freddie lit up a cigarette. Brian took a breath.

"You're bothering me Freddie. Whenever we go to a pub together, you're eying up everyone else. You flirt with other men right in front of me, I went to the bathroom the other night, when I came back you were sitting with that Gavin bloke and you were all over him as if sex was going out of fashion. Do you have any idea of how that feels to me Freddie? You say you love me, but you have a fucking funny was of showing it." Brian paused, there were tears in his eyes. Freddie decided to jump in before Brian started again.

"Darling, just because I look at people and occasionally flirt with them, doesn't mean I want to have sex with them and about Gavin, I'm a very emotional person. I touch everybody if I'm sitting near them,"

"Yeah, well I wonder would you be so emotional if it was a girl sitting next to you?" Brian grumbled. Freddie went over and put his arms around Brian, but Brian pulled away.

"That's another thing with you Freddie," he said, "Everything always resorts to sex. The only time we ever talk to each other is when we're drunk. I don't want to shag you, I'm not interested. There has to be more to a relationship than sex,"

"Oh darling," Freddie waved his hand dismissively, "Now you sound like my mother," he put on a high pitched voice, "There has to be more to a relationship than sex, Freddie." Brian looked hurt by this remark.

"Perhaps you refuse to talk about anything remotely challenging is because you can't, unless you're drunk," he said quietly.

"What about you dear?" Freddie asked indignantly, "Perhaps the reason we only have proper conversations when we're drunk is because you can be so fucking boring when you're sober. All you ever talk about is astronomy, physics, guitars and maths,"

Brian gathered up his things and opened the door.

"What are you doing dear?" Freddie asked,

"There's not much point in me staying if I bore you so much is there?" He asked quietly.

"We….we could talk about it if you like," Freddie suggested.

"I think we've talked enough, don't you?" Brian snapped. He went out the door and slammed it shut.

To be continued…..


	3. Part 3

Part three

Three hours after Brian left, Freddie had consumed a whole bottle of wine, two cans of beer and half a bottle of vodka that he'd found hidden under Roger's bed, possibly hidden there in the hope that Freddie wouldn't find it. He felt a lot happier, because of the alcohol, but it would have been nicer to share it with Brian. Freddie had tried to phone him an hour after the fight but Brian hadn't been very happy to hear from him, and, after Freddie had phoned him a second time, Brian had, politely asked him not to phone back again that night…actually, his exact words were:

"Try and get this into your head you fucking idiot. I don't want to talk to you right now. So don't fucking phone me again ok?"

Freddie sighed and stretched out on the couch to think about Brian and everything that had happened. He was woken up half an hour later to a strange scratching sound at the door. He sat up quickly.

"Fucking key, why won't you go in?" he relaxed again. It was only Roger, by the sound of things a very drunk Roger. He lay back down and listened to Roger's half arsed, drunken attempts at unlocking the door. After what seemed like the ten-thousandth attempt and when Roger's commentary began to get louder, Freddie decided to let him in, but not before the man in the adjoining apartment reached him.

"Blondie, Frankie, one of three things is going to happen here tonight. You let him in, he goes away, or I call the police."

"Who the fuck are you calling Blondie?" Roger could be heard demanding. Freddie rushed out and dragged Roger in, while smiling apologetically at the man.

"Blondie and Frankie my arse," Roger grumbled, "I'll fucking teach him to remember our names. In fact, I think I'll teach him right now," Roger staggered back out the door, but Freddie dragged him back in again.

"Darling that might not be such a good idea. Remember what happened last time? Anyway, I think there might be two more beer cans in the fridge, why don't we share them, love?" Roger looked at him in horror.

"He calls me Blondie and you call me love, I bet the two of you are in this together. I'm…"

"Drunk dear," Freddie interrupted, "Now please come back inside."

"You're pissed too you know," Roger muttered under his breath, "So don't go around acting like fucking Lord God Almighty, because you're in exactly the same condition." Freddie, completely ignoring this comment, took two cans of beer from the fridge and sat down beside Roger.

"So tell me darling, what has you back so early? I thought you were meeting your girlfriend,"

"Well," Roger sighed and lit a cigarette, "You know what thought done. Pissed in the bed and thought he was sweating," Roger smiled at Freddie, "Now where's that beer you were talking about?" Freddie, never one to turn away from a gossip session, wouldn't be put off.

"You can have the beer, darling, if you tell me what happened."

Being pissed, Roger took over an hour to explain that his girlfriend hadn't turned up. He'd went over to her flat, where she dumped him for being over-committed to his music career. When he finished, Freddie, in drunken admiration, clapped enthusiastically, prompting Roger to get up and bow as if he was receiving some kind of award.

"Of course you know what you should do now don't you?" Freddie asked when Roger sat down again, "You should write that down dear, turn it into a book. No, I'm serious; you've got such a talent for storytelling. That could become a bestseller. Lots of people would buy it. Imagine how rich we'd be."

"How rich I'd be," Roger corrected.

"Well…yes, of course it would be your money," Freddie admitted, "But I live with you. for fuck's sake, we're so close we might as well be married."

"Of course I'll share the money with you," Roger patted Freddie's shoulder, "But only if you'll help me to write it. Hey you know what? We've got all night and no rehearsals tomorrow, we could write it now."

An hour later they abandoned the book on account of boredom. Freddie was smoking a cigarette and staring thoughtfully at the door; half hoping that an all-forgiving Brian would miraculously walk through it, when he noticed Roger staring at him thoughtfully.

"What's the matter darling?"

"What's it like?" Roger asked.

"What's what like dear?"

"Sex."

"I'd have thought that of all people, you'd know what sex is like," Freddie teased.

"No," Roger moved closer and slipped his arm around Freddie, "Sex with a bloke. I've always wanted to know. Is it as good as you make out?"

"Now darling that would be telling wouldn't it?" Freddie smiled, "There's only one way to find out what sex is like, and you know that as well as I do," his voice had lowered in to a seductive whisper," Would you like to find out?"

"Ok," Roger whispered. Freddie stood up and took Roger's hand.

"Where are we going?" Roger asked, pretending to be surprised.

"Down the road to ask my friend Gavin. He'll be able to tell us, come on dear." Freddie pulled Roger towards the door. Roger's face fell in disappointment. "I'm only joking you fucking twat, we're going into the bedroom," Freddie laughed, as he saw Roger's face.

Freddie led Roger into his bedroom and they sat on the bed.

"Now dear," he said, "The first thing you do is place your hand here," he placed his hand on Roger's thigh, "and then you lean in closer like this and you do this…" his voice faded off as he pulled Roger towards him and gave him a deep kiss, after a minute he pulled away, "Now, you try,"

Roger leaned towards Freddie and kissed him carefully on the lips, before pulling Freddie closer and sticking his tongue inside Freddie's mouth. Freddie responded to this by sticking his tongue inside Roger's mouth and putting his hand under Roger's shirt to trace his spine with a finger. Roger moaned softly and tried to pull Freddie closer, but Freddie pulled away and began to undress Roger. After both were undressed, Freddie pushed Roger down onto the bed, sat up on top of him and began to kiss Roger's chest. When he reached Roger's dick he stroked it softly for a few minutes before climbing back up and kissing Roger on the mouth. He repeated this process for a few moments causing Roger to cry out in pleasure

"Put it in your mouth, for fuck's sake,"

"Put what in my mouth?" Freddie asked with a wicked smile,

"Oh…you know!"

"Say please darling,"

"Please, you bastard!"

Freddie smiled wickedly at him before sticking Roger's cock in his mouth and licking it expertly. When he had finished, he looked up at Roger.

"Enjoying this?" he asked a panting Roger.

"It's certainly the most interesting lesson I've ever had. I must say, the teacher is very good, I'd even go as far as to say that the teacher is bloody excellent," he grinned.

"Well in that case, perhaps you'd like to give the teacher some sort of a thank you present," Freddie suggested. Roger smiled and sat up. He began by kissing Freddie on the lips, then he kissed his way down as far as Freddie's waist. He began to stroke Freddie's dick for a few minutes causing Freddie to let out a little moan. Roger looked up and noticed that Freddie had his eyes closed. A wicked thought came into his head and entered Freddie suddenly taking him by surprise and causing him to cry out. As he pushed himself deeper into Freddie, Freddie had an orgasm and cried out like a man in pain.

"You ok?" he asked.

"Yes…perfect…wonderful…don't stop…ever…" Freddie panted.

When they'd finished for the second time, both men fell asleep. Some time later, Freddie woke up and remembered Brian and a wave of guilt swept over him. Brian hadn't deserved this. All he'd done was speak his mind. He checked the clock beside the bed it was half five. Roger had fallen asleep beside him and was snoring slightly. Freddie got out of the bed and searched around for some clothes. As he was leaving the room, Roger woke up.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"Ummm…out…for a…walk," Freddie answered and hurried out before Roger had a chance to question him. Roger shrugged and went back to sleep.

When Freddie got outside he discovered that it was pouring rain. He debated going back upstairs and going to bed, but he felt horribly guilty after his night with Roger and possibly because the alcohol hadn't quite left his system, he decided to keep going. Brian's apartment was a twenty-minute walk and Freddie only had a pair of tight trousers and a light shirt on. By the time he reached Brian's apartment he was drenched his clothes and hair were clinging to him. He climbed the stairs and knocked on Brian's door. There was no answer, Brian was probably fast asleep. Freddie knocked harder. After five minutes of knocking, Freddie was beginning to feel slightly impatient. The only thing that kept him outside the door was the thought of going back out in the rain. He began to bang on the door.

"Brian, open the fucking door this instant," he roared loud enough to wake the entire floor. There was a movement inside the flat and a dishevelled Brian opened the door wearing only his underwear. Before Brian could protest, Freddie pushed past him and went into the flat. Brian followed Freddie into the room where he was drying his hair with a towel.

"Freddie what the fuck are you doing?"

"Drying myself dear,"

"No," Brian yawned, "I meant what the fuck are you doing here at six o clock in the morning soaking wet and smelling of alcohol?"

"We've got things to sort out darling. I mean, yesterday evening, I didn't mean to…"

"Couldn't this wait until later?" Brian interrupted, "It's early and I'm too tired."

"Well go back to bed darling," Freddie took off his wet shirt, "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. I'll sleep for a while on the couch."

"Well," Brian hesitated; he didn't want Freddie going back out in the rain, but he didn't really want to talk to him either. "Are you sure? Hang on; I'll get you some dry clothes," he reappeared a minute later with some of his clothes. He handed them to Freddie, "Are you sure you'll be ok?"

"I'll be fine, dear," Freddie assured him, "Go back to bed."

A while later, Brian was woken up by the sound of Freddie rooting around in his room.

"What time is it?"

"Eight o clock dear, go back to sleep," Freddie continued looking through Brian's things.

"What are you looking for?" Brian asked.

"That shirt that I left here the last time I stayed over."

"You insisted that I bring it to the rehearsal the next day so you could take it back before I lost it, or dirtied it, or ate it, remember?" Brian rolled his eyes, "Freddie was that just a pathetic excuse to get in here so that I'd talk to you?"

"Maybe," Freddie smiled coyly and sat on the bed beside him, "Did it work?"

"Yes," Brian admitted grudgingly, "Freddie…I'm sorry for calling you a slut. I didn't mean it. I was just angry. When we're out together and you're eying up everyone else, it makes me feel insignificant. Maybe I am a bit boring at times, but that's just the way I am. I can't change."

"I don't want you to change darling. I love you just the way you are, even when you're talking away in science language about physics or astronomy. Just because I flirt with other people, doesn't mean I want to be with that person." Freddie brushed his hair out of his eyes, "That's just the way I am darling. I can't change either."

Brian looked away, thinking about what Freddie had said.

"Well I'll go back out here and let you sleep," Freddie stood up. Brian got a full view of him. He was wearing Brian's shirt and trousers. Both were too big and were falling off Freddie. Brian started to laugh.

"Shut the fuck up," Freddie complained, "I can't help it if you're too tall."

"Why don't you take them off and get in here beside me? We don't have to shag, we can just talk."

"Ok dear," Freddie got in beside him and gave him a hug

"I got really drunk last night and had sex with Roger," he mumbled into Brian's hair. Brian pulled away.

"What?"

"I was drunk. I wasn't going to tell you, but I was afraid that Roger would let it slip. I was really drunk and I can barely remember it. You have absolutely no idea how much I regret it," Freddie looked pleadingly at Brian. But instead of getting mad, or disappointed, or any of the other emotions associated with this type of situation, he just shrugged.

"It was bound to happen I suppose," he muttered

"Why?" Freddie demanded.

"I was expecting this," Brian said. Freddie stared at him, unable to speak, "You see I went out for a couple of drinks, sort of drown my sorrows, you know, and I met Roger,"

"Go on," Freddie prompted.

"Anyway, he was drunk. He said his girlfriend had left him, he was through with women and from now on, he was only going to shag men and he was going to start with you and when Roger has his heart set on something, he usually does it no matter what,"

"So…" Freddie paused uneasily, "You're not angry?"

"Well, yes and no," Brian admitted, "I'm jealous mainly and disappointed. You were mad at me so I kind of thought you'd do something like that as a way of getting back at me. I tried to ring you three times later that night, but you ignored it. The whole night, I was just lying here kicking myself for storming off yesterday and behaving like a spoiled child. I kept thinking he's shagging Roger now when he could have been here shagging me. I kept thinking about what I'd said to you and how Roger had stood up for you and what a bastard I've been."

Neither spoke for a while. They were both engrossed in their separate thoughts.

"But I love you," Freddie suddenly blurted out.

"You have a funny way of showing it," Brian muttered

"Really, I love you." Freddie repeated, kissing Brian softly on the lips, "Doesn't everyone deserve a second chance"

"I love you too, I guess," Brian admitted grudgingly, "Even though this isn't your second chance. This must be the fifth or sixth."

"Good," Freddie smiled. Both were silent again for a few minutes. Eventually Brian broke the silence,

"I can't believe we've been in a bed together for half an hour and you haven't once suggested that we have sex. Freddie Bulsara I hope you're not losing your touch," he joked, "Freddie Bulsara, master of seduction, has lost his touch. Either that or you're so used to shagging me that the novelty has worn off." Freddie straddled him.

"Just for that, I'm going to so it so hard, that you'll be sorry you ever let me in."

"Oh I don't know about that," Brian smiled.

A couple of hours later the phone rang. Brian answered it and handed it to Freddie.

"Uh…Freddie?" it was Roger.

"Oh hello dear," Freddie giggled, trying to kick Brian, who was tickling his back.

"Where are you? We need to talk,"

"Oh…well I'm in…" Freddie trailed off; Brian was kissing him on the lips and stroking his crotch.

"Freddie? Freddie what's going on?" Freddie was still holding the phone, but his hand had slipped down over the edge of the bed as Brian kissed his way down to Freddie's dick. Freddie put the phone back up to his ear.

"Darling, it's not really a good time for me to talk, could we talk later?" He gasped as Brian took Freddie's hand and used it to stroke his cock.

"Why isn't this a good time? What's going on?" Roger demanded. Freddie thought about how much Mary would love this situation. One man in the bed trying to have sex with him and another on the phone demanding to know what was happening.

"Darling, this really isn't a good time, I'll have to phone you back," Freddie gasped as Brian pushed himself inside Freddie. He somehow managed to put the phone back on its hook before getting back to business.

Some time later, Freddie sat up and reached for the phone,

"Darling, I'm really going to have to phone Roger."

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Brian mumbled drowsily. Freddie dialled the number.

"Roger?"

"I'm on my way out Freddie what do you want?"

"Well, about last night I assume."

"Yeah, well…" Roger sounded uncomfortable, "I wanted to know if we could just forget about it. I was drunk, it was a mistake. I don't fancy you. You're my mate. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry dear," Freddie said, "We're better off as friends. Anyway, I made up with my boyfriend,"

"So I heard," Freddie could tell Roger was grinning, "Who is he? Gavin? Peter? Dennis? Or…Brian? Only joking," Roger laughed, "Anyway, lover boy, I'm on my way out. Things to see, people to do. Have fun." He hung up. Brian rolled around to face Freddie.

"What did he say?"

"He wants us to forget about it." Freddie lay back down into the bed to go to sleep. There was silence for a few minutes.

"Freddie?"

"Mmm?" Freddie opened his eyes.

"What do you think will happen to us?"

"Well…" Freddie thought for a moment, "Who knows what the future has in store?" he closed his eyes again. There was silence for a few moments, until Freddie spoke again.

"I still think we should call the band Queen. I mean there are two queens in it."

"Oi!!" Brian kicked him, "I'm not a queen."

"Yes you are darling, get used to it," Freddie insisted, "But if you don't like it you could be called something else. Fairy, poof, queer."

"Freddie shut up," Freddie did, for a minute or two.

"The curly haired Fairy Poof Queen,"

"Freddie!"

"Curly haired guitarist prat,"

"Shut up, you black haired, buck toothed pianist bitch."

THE END


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